Hidden Blue Eyes
by Alice Redqueen
Summary: After her eyes got sliced out, she had no choice but to wander the woods surrounding Oakvale. Fortunately, she was saved by a man called Twinblade. This is the story of Theresa not seen in the game. (Rated PG-13 for violence)
1. Prelude

Author's Note:

Thank you for choosing to read my humble fanfic based on _Fable_. While I am working on an original fanfic, this first one is based off of Theresa's story. It's about her time spent in the bandit camp when the Hero was in the Guild, etc. Yes, there will be romance. Yes, it will be Twinblade/Theresa. Yes, I like that couple!

Anyway, it's time for the disclaimer. I do not own _Fable_. I do not own the characters . . . in fact I own none of anything that has to remotely do with _Fable_! I am not doing this for profit, I am doing this for fun. Please don't sue me.

* * *

She couldn't see or smell the carnage yet. All her large blue eyes could see was her younger brother . . . who was going to be in very deep trouble. Theresa's lips pursed as she looked at her brother, who stared at the ground guiltily.

"You forgot, didn't you? Just like last year," Theresa absent-mindedly pulled on one of her pigtails, glowering down at the boy before her. His blue eyes bored into hers as he shook his head quickly and exclaimed, "No! I didn't forget, not like last year. It just took awhile, that's all!"

"Then why do you look so guilty, little brother?" she quirked an eyebrow before he extended a box of chocolates to her.

"I had bought them and the chocolate just smelled so good, so I took a peek. They were so tasty-looking, and there were a lot so I . . . I ate one . . . I'm sorry, Theresa!" As her brother broke down in an apologetic whimper, the Oakvale girl couldn't help but giggle. She graciously took the open box and smiled as a wave of familiarity washed over her.

"I knew you were going to bring my chocolates. It's just like in my dream!" Theresa's brother snapped his head up and sighed with relief when he saw his sister's smiling face. She tilted her head as she turned away and extended her hand to him, "Come on, Mother will be coming back for my party any minute!" He nodded as he started to run ahead of her, sweat running anew down his shoulders and back. Theresa's smile widened as she saw, because it made her appreciate just how hard he had worked to get her that present. She thought about how she'd have to split the box with him until her innocent, child-like thoughts were rudely interrupted.

She could smell the blood of the first that had died. The air was soon heavy with its scent. Her azure eyes looked ahead at her brother, and she felt her voice welling up.

"Wait!" it finally broke through, "Something's wrong!" As if to confirm her premonition, a pained scream tore the air with one word: "Bandits!" The young boy stared as a wounded man hobbled through the Oakvale gate, intent on warning the families. He was stopped, though, as an arrow sailed clearly through his chest. His eyes got wider than normally possible before he slumped forward, and then finally crumbled in a heap.

"It's really happening!" shrieked Theresa, "Quickly, you have to hide!" Her brother looked at Theresa with a pained expression on his face as she ran ahead and down the hill.

"Mother," she whispered in ragged breaths, "I have to warn Mother!"

* * *

His sword tore through another villager. He had had nothing to do with the boy or the Sword, but sometimes one had to have a little fun. As the slain villager fell into an unidentifiable mass of dead human flesh, the killer looked up to see an older man calmly making his way towards him.

"There still is no sign of the boy or his family," reported Maze as he clasped his hands behind his back, taking on a relaxed stance (though in all honesty his knees were practically knocking with fear). Jack of Blades ran an armored hand down the curve of his sword, letting his dark eyes take in the blood that had started to dry on it.

"My sources know that if they give the wrong information they will find themselves in a truly . . . painful situation." The seasoned wizard stiffened as Jack's words sunk in. Bile started to rise in his throat, and he fought back the urges to turn and heave up the contents of his stomach. A smile formed on Jack's thin lips, hidden behind his mask.

"He is here," he flatly stated as he walked past his powerful subordinate, "He had better be."

* * *

"Mother! Father!" Theresa ran through the open doors of the small building that she called 'home'. Brom was looking warily out a window, a simple farming sickle clenched in his hands. The woman once called Scarlet Robe sat in a chair in front of the crackling fire, her mouth set and determined.

"Where is your brother?" she uttered, her mahogany eyes staring into the fire that echoed the flames screaming in the village.

"I told him to hide," explained Theresa, "Was that right to do?" Scarlet looked at her daughter and nodded before pulling her into a motherly embrace. Brom's grip on the sickle tightened until his work-worn knuckles were white and quietly hissed, "They've found us." Theresa buried her head in her mother's shoulder, inhaling her fragrant perfume for the last time. Brom straightened up before stomping outside, the sickle at his side.

"What do you want with us? With Scarlet?" he roared as he brought his hands out towards the bandits that had gathered, almost pleading for them to spare his family despite his harsh tone. Jack stepped forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I hope you're ready to die for your family," he calmly explained, "We want the boy, not you." Brom raised his sickle and ran towards Jack, hoping to take off his head in a clean sweep. In a blur, Jack easily swept to the side and stood beside the confused father. He placed a cold hand on his shoulder in a vise-like grip, causing Brom to turn towards him with wide eyes. With his free hand, Jack ripped his sword out of its sheath and slammed it into Brom's gut. As Brom's face morphed from shock to agony, Jack let out a low laugh. He twisted his sword inside the wound before ripping it up, causing a large gash to form across his stomach and chest. After a moment of never-ending pain, Brom's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell limp in Jack of Blades' arms, dead.

Scarlet closed her eyes as a ripple of pain bored into her heart. Her mourning was short-lived, however, as she soon heard the telltale sound of armored feet stepping through the door. Both she and Theresa looked up at Brom's killer. Jack stood there, fresh blood dripping from his sword onto the wooden floor. He leaned a bit with his weight on one hip, and casually rested against the doorframe. Scarlet was silent as she looked at him, and Theresa was either too brave or too scared to scream. Jack pushed himself upward and sauntered towards them, letting the fear of his presence settle about the room like a fog.

"Dearest Scarlet Robe," he said, his words uncannily smooth, "I've waited so long to meet you." Scarlet's eyes trailed upwards to look into his as he approached ever closer, and Theresa's large blue eyes did the same, in wonder and fear.

* * *

Theresa sat on the doorstep to her house, trying to blur out the sound of her mother's agonized screaming. If she looked up she could probably see their silhouettes against the still-burning flames. Her mother struggled as fists of bandits pounded into her, blood running down her face and hair. Jack stood nearby, his arms crossed as he watched coldly on. Maze stood near the girl, watching her to see if she'd try to escape. He knew that she wouldn't, though, not with her mother still there. The old Wizard turned his head to see his leader walking towards the girl, so he fearfully stepped aside.

"Has she said anything?" he asked, his voice hissing slightly at the 'th' sound.

"Not a word," replied Maze, "Did Scarlet say anything?"

"Nothing, no matter what those brutes did, she said nothing." Jack's hand clutched at his sword as he neared Theresa. When he was directly in front of her, he stared down, his eyes trying to penetrate her very thoughts.

"Tell me where your brother is hiding." It was one question, a simple one. Theresa thought about her mother, how she had stayed silent no matter what they did. It made her heart swell up with pride when she thought about it. Her eyes trailed up to the tall man, and she stayed silent. All she did was look at him: his mask, his cloak, and his sword. Jack was furious at this, as was evident by his red and golden eyes narrowing. That was, unfortunately, the last thing that Theresa saw, for the next thing that Jack did was slash his sword across her face, slicing into her eyes and rendering her blind. Despite Theresa's attempts to be brave, she couldn't stop the scream of pain that welled up in her throat. As she clutched at her mangled eyes, a large brute walked up behind Jack, Scarlet slung over his shoulder.

"You wanna kill her, Boss?" Jack looked at the brute and scoffed, as if it were the most obvious question in the world.

"Of course not, she still has some valuable information. Take her to the docks, I will be there shortly to transport you all to Bargate," Jack looked back at Maze as he spoke, watching the Wizard look at Theresa as she cried. The brute nodded and gave a signal. In response, the other bandits started to move out, heading towards their destination.

"It hurts!" moaned Theresa. She thought she could hear Jack and Maze speaking to one another, but she couldn't hear. All she could hear was the ringing in her head that started from the pain. Fearing for her life, she started to tumble away from Maze and Jack's voices, groping at the grass and remnants of houses. After about an hour of moving, she soon realized that she was not in Oakvale any longer. All around her were trees, and leaves crunched under her feet.

She was lost and alone.


	2. Two Bandits

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for reading my fanfic and giving such wonderful reviews! They made me feel all squishy and eager to write more. Also, never try to write _Fable_ fanfiction while listening to "Eye of the Tiger." It just doesn't work, trust me.

Also, please forgive me. I know that this chapter is short but I had to make it short so I could dedicate an entire chapter to her meeting Twinblade.

* * *

Blood had formed such thick scabs over her eyes that Theresa could barely shut them. With each surge of pain that seethed through her senses, the girl inwardly cursed at the man who had done this to her. Her days were filled with aimless crawling, and her nights with nightmares of her mother being tortured to the brink of death. Those dreams were so vivid that Theresa felt like she could reach out and stroke her mother's cheek. But as soon as she tried to, she felt herself being pulled to the waking world again.

On one such morning, Theresa felt tears trying to break through the scabs.

"Mother. . ." she moaned as she rested against a tree, wrapping her calloused hands around her dirt-covered legs. Her once-beautiful birthday dress had become smeared with dirt and was torn in various areas from sticks and sharp rocks that had cut into her soft skin. Her hair had become slick, and stuck to her face that was caked with mud and sweat. Theresa had become the very image of anguish. As she started to give into her hunger and pain, Theresa thought she heard voices nearby.

". . . It makes you wonder what he was looking for," said one voice, a deep and raspy voice with a terrible lisp.

"If Jack of Blades personally went to look, it must be very important," said another voice, this one wasn't as deep but even raspier. Theresa felt her heart go a bit lighter. She peeked around the tree, and though she couldn't see anything she felt the warmth of a fire and heard it crackle into the night sky. These were different flames than the flames in Oakvale. They were warm and inviting, and was that a cooking goose she smelled? As energy started to flow to her limbs, Theresa stood up and started to stumble towards the warmth.

"Hey Cliff, you can see well in the dark, what's over there?" asked the one with the lisp. The one called Cliff looked over as Theresa clambered towards them and blinked once, then twice. After a pause where Theresa fell onto her knees from lack of strength, Cliff sighed, "It's just a kid, probably a survivor from Oakvale. Just ignore it, Elliot, maybe she'll go away and die somewhere else."

"Please . . ." choked Theresa, "Water, food, warmth . . . anything . . ." Cliff rolled his eyes before kicking some dirt on the girl and muttering, "Scram, kid. We don't run an orphanage." Elliot, however, was a kinder bandit than Cliff. He took a pot of water that was sitting next to the fire and sat it in front of Theresa after saying, "Drink this. It's just water, but it should help."

"Hey Elliot! You know how long it took me to boil that?" growled Cliff as he watched Theresa gratefully hold the clay pot to her lips. After she had her fill, she offered the half-empty vessel out in front of her. Cliff shook his head and grumbled, "Clean yourself up. You stink, kid." Elliot was too busy watching Theresa to say anything. The way her hair hung over her face, the way she groped around . . .

"Can you see us?" he asked. Theresa lifted her head up after washing her hands and moved her bangs away from her face for him to see his answer. Cliff made a vocal sound of disgust while Elliot rubbed his balding head and whistled.

"Well, Glennis could probably help at least get that nasty clotting off," he said as he watched Theresa wash the dirt off of her face.

"You're not seriously considering bringing her to Twinblade's Camp, are you?" Cliff's eyes narrowed as he stroked his moustache. Elliot looked at Cliff and raised his eyebrow before standing up and taking the goose off of the fire. He tore one of the legs off, and forgetting that Theresa was blind, tossed it to her. The pre-teen squeaked as it conked her on the forehead and then fell into her lap. Elliot laughed, but it wasn't a mocking laugh like Jack's. It was good-natured and kind, not a laugh that you'd expect from a bandit. Theresa actually put a smile on her face as she tore into her dinner, though it was a smile of gratitude instead of happiness.

"Finish up quickly, kid," ordered Cliff as he rubbed one of his arms, "These woods give me the creeps." Cliff should have spoken sooner, for even as he finished his first sentence Theresa was already licking the bone. Elliot laughed as he kicked dirt over the fire, causing it to smolder. Cliff glared at his companion as he stomped on the embers a few times before saying, "Don't tell me you aren't afraid of Darkwood?" When Theresa heard this, she practically choked on the goose bone. She had somehow wandered into Darkwood Forest without being eaten by a Balverine? Elliot pat Theresa on the back a few times before grinning, showing that a few of his teeth were missing.

"Aye, you're a lucky one you are," he chuckled, ignoring Cliff's question. The other bandit rolled his eyes at Elliot as he rolled up the dishes into a spare sack that had not made contact with the dirt. Cliff was quite the clean freak, always thoroughly washing his dishes no matter where he was, always boiling his water to get rid of the diseases, and always neatly folding his bandit gear after scrubbing them until holes were practically worn from the abrasive soap.

When they were packed up, Elliot heaved Theresa onto his shoulder, and shrugged as Cliff rolled his eyes yet again.

"It's faster this way," was his excuse. The truth was actually that he had grown quite attached to the girl in the few minutes that he spent with her. As Theresa held onto Elliot's shoulders with all her might, she heard Cliff ask, "So, we gonna show her to Glennis or Twinblade first?"

"Glennis," replied Elliot, "She's got to look somewhat presentable for the Bandit King." Theresa mouthed the words 'Bandit King' in wonder as the two men started on their journey.


	3. Glennis

Across the channel that lapped at the mud-caked rocks of Lychfield's shore lay the dismal island where Bargate Prison dwelled. Though the entire island was dreary, there was one tower above all the rest that reeked of death and depression. It wasn't a torture chamber, or a holding area for prisoners: it was the residential tower for the owner of Bargate. Though he wasn't there often, the masked benefactor of the Prison could sometimes be seen glowering down at the guards and prisoners alike from the lone window. Other times Maze would cast a fearful eye out the window, watching and waiting for his horrific master. Yet on other times something rare could be seen: a kind, lovely face. Large golden eyes framed by long eyelashes would sometimes blink down at the victims with a sorrowful gaze as her rose-lips pursed into a thoughtful, pitying smile. Those who saw her called her the Angel of Bargate, but those who knew her just called her Kaze, Kaze Steele.

It was an overcast day when she pulled the thin, wispy curtains aside and glanced down at the courtyard below. A few guards were wandering around, bickering amongst themselves and gossiping about what little happened in the Prison. A delicate sigh escaped her lips, but she quickly sucked the air back in when she heard the familiar howl that announced the Red Magic that Jack used to make his grand entrances. Kaze whirled around, the curtains falling back into their place as if nothing had happened. Her glance darted about the stone, barren room that made up most of the Residential Tower as she wished that her heart would stop beating so frantically. Fear, maybe? Excitement? Maybe it was a combination of the two, she wasn't sure herself anymore. There weren't many places to hide in the room: there was a large bed that was hardly used (Kaze said that it always smelled of blood, no matter how much it was washed), a large carpet of the style that the people of Knothole Glade usually slept on, a few scattered chairs, and many books of all sizes and subjects. The usual resident had a passion for studying and reading, zealously trying to find information on his one, consuming goal. It was he that Kaze was looking for now, and it was he who decided to give her a fright by leaning in close to her ear and hissing a single word: "Scared?"

"Ahh!" the girl flung herself away with a startled shriek and fell onto the woven carpet, her eyes wide and her shoulder-length, brunette hair frazzled in the panic. After regaining her composure, she brushed her hair back over her shoulder and shook her head to express a negative. This action caused Jack to laugh arrogantly as he looked out the window. After a moment's pause he muttered, "Has Maze come yet?" She shook her head again, but when she saw that he wasn't facing her she said, "No, he hasn't. Is it about Oakvale?"

"No, it's about _him_. He hasn't brought me any reports about finding the boy. I'm starting to wonder . . ." Kaze stiffened at Jack's words, especially when she saw one of his hands curl into a fist. But then he laughed once more and shook his head, "That fool! He thinks he can escape me by hiding the boy in that stupid little Guild of his? This could prove quite entertaining. I'm so tired of unworthy rivals . . . " He sank into one of the larger armchairs and closed his strange eyes, letting his mind wander. For some reason, his thoughts fell on the girl that he had blinded. The screams that she let out as her hands clutched at the streams of blood that flowed down her face made a smile curl over his masked face, and images of her being ripped apart by Hobbes or the Undead made him let out another low laugh before he fell into his own demented dream-world.

* * *

"Aye, we're finally here!" laughed Elliot as he sat Theresa down on the ground.

"Marvelous," Cliff rolled his eyes, "Now where's that old hag?" Cliff rubbed his sore hands together and looked around the Bandit Camp, his tired eyes drooping every now and then.

"'Ey now, you shouldn't talk about your sister that way," Elliot scolded Cliff, his large lips forming into a scowl. As the two men bickered, Theresa silently stood, looking calmly around the area-- an old habit that hadn't died, even though she couldn't see. She sighed sadly, the strings of her oily hair falling in front of her face. The sigh caused Elliot to go silent, and he crouched down beside Theresa and wiped some dirt off of her nose before saying, "You aren't missing much, kid. 'Cept maybe Cliff's ugly mug!"

"Hey!" Cliff growled as he put his hands on his hips, causing Elliot to erupt into laughter. The laughing continued, as his friend eventually joined in, clapping a hand on his back. Theresa finally cracked a smile, but stiffened with surprise when a warm, aged hand was placed on her shoulder.

"Well now," a withered, yet kind voice cooed, "Who's this little angel?" Theresa looked up at the direction of the voice, and had she not been blind she would've seen a tall, thin matron with wiry grey hair and motherly brown eyes. Her skin was bronze and reflected years of tireless work, shattering the illusion that she was weak.

"I'm Theresa," whispered the blind girl, "Your brother and his friend were kind enough to bring me here after Oakvale . . ." She trailed off and looked at the ground, suddenly thinking of her own brother. She prayed that he was all right, though her memory of him was getting hazy. She wondered why, but her thoughts were interrupted when the woman spoke:

"My name is Glennis, child. I may not look it, but I'm the best healer this Camp has to offer." Glennis knelt down beside Theresa, her brown gown pooling around her thin legs as she lifted the mane of Theresa's hair above her eyes. She clucked her tongue when she saw the caked blood and the slash mark that Jack's sword left.

"I can't heal blindness," Glennis admitted, "But I can make this less painful for you. If Twinblade is willing, I can teach you a great many things about magic, both healing and harmful." Theresa nodded to Glennis' words, and the healer smiled.

"Let's get you cleaned up in my tent," said Glennis as she rose and took Theresa by the hand, leading her through the murky darkness that was now her world.

* * *

Glennis sat Theresa down on the bed and sat a bowl of clear liquid on a bedside table.

"First let's take care of those eyes . . ." mused Glennis as she took a clean cloth that was soft from use and dipped it into the bowl. She wrung it out before moving the swab over one eye, and then the other. Theresa sucked in her breath as a strong scent of lavender filled her nostrils. The cool sensation of the magic ointment seeped through the disgusting scab and wet her blind eyes, causing a thrilling sensation to sweep through her sinuses. Finally, the scabs dropped off and fell into her lap like two burnt embers. Her clear, blind eyes were seen, and though she could see nothing, Theresa smiled as her eyeballs were released from their prison. Glennis smiled, showing that a few of her teeth were missing, before wiping her face down with the ointment. The angry scar seemed to lessen, though the imprint of Red Magic would always be on her face.

"Let's give you a bath now, okay?" Glennis explained as she peeled away the disgusting cloth that was once Theresa's birthday gown. Elliot had already drawn some water from a nearby lake and had boiled it (of course). Now that it was cool enough for a little girl to bathe in, he left the room for modesty's sake. Glennis rolled her eyes, Theresa was still a child but Elliot would probably blush at the sight of a naked baby. Theresa didn't see any of this, she just expectantly held onto Glennis' hand as she led her to the wooden tub of water. Theresa fumbled about for a bit, and Glennis just smiled as she quickly lifted the child over the edge of the tub and inside the water. As Theresa started to scrub her muddied hair, Glennis continued to apply the ointment to gashes that had appeared on her arms and back. Soon Theresa looked like a beautiful child once again, and Glennis couldn't help but burst with pride as she slipped Theresa into a dress that had once belonged to her own daughter, who had died from a disease that she could not cure. In all honesty, Theresa reminded her of that tiny girl. It was her, after all, who had inspired her to become a healer. Maybe, this girl could be her redemption . . .

After she tied a red band around Theresa's upper face, hiding her blind eyes from infection and irritation, Glennis took Theresa outside. Cliff stood nearby and actually smiled at he sight of Theresa. Glennis had tied her hair into the familiar pigtails that she used to always wear, and instead of being barefoot she wore a pair of Glennis' old sandals. The dress that she was wearing was a dark pink, with a few dark stitches in it to give it a bit of flair.

"Now, she's ready to meet Twinblade!" exclaimed Elliot as he clasped his hands, happy to see his little friend look so pretty. Theresa smiled herself, she didn't know what Twinblade was like, but if he was like these kind bandits . . . she didn't know why people hated their kind so much.


	4. Memories

Author's Note:

Wow, how long has it been since I've updated this? 34 glorious reviews! Not only that, but e-mails, instant messages . . . you people know how to make a writer feel loved. Just so you know, all of this is for you! I would've abandoned this long ago if it weren't for the overwhelming response I've received. Thank you all so much!

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A bear of a man with a barrel chest and stout, muscular legs lounged in a large, wooden chair. No matter how many times he shifted positions, he just couldn't get comfortable. His current situation was bothering him greatly, and thinking about what would happen if these failures kept happening made him grimace. There had been rumors of bandits planning a rebellion, but that didn't bother Twinblade as much as his pride did. If the Guild caught wind of his repeated failures, what would they think? No, it would set in stone that he was wrong. . . wrong about his idealology, wrong about everything. He didn't want to go begging to them, crawling on his hands and knees like some dog! With an angry grunt he grabbed a mug of ale and downed the whole thing in one rude gulp. Finally calming down, he sat the mug aside and ran a hand through his red hair. It had been dreadlocked long ago, and Twinblade was sure that he would start losing his hair soon, due to nerves. He resolved to shave it himself, one day. One day when he didn't have all of this to worry about! His dark brown eyes looked lazily around the bandit camp, and rested on a mismatched crew walking towards him. It consisted of two bandits, one with teeth so bad that he must have a terrible speech inpediment, and the other old and balding like some half-dead mule. In front of them was his healing woman, Glennis. She was as ugly as both of them combined, but he would never say that to her face . . . she commanded a sort of respect from him. That, and he needed her skills. Then his eyes continued, and fell on the tiny girl clinging to Glennis' ratty dress. Even with a bandage around her eyes, he was shocked at how pretty this little girl was. He wasn't -that- sort of fellow, but it was a rare delight to see anything lovely and innocent enter his territory.

"An Oakvale survivor?" Twinblade rumbled as the group approached. Theresa peered out from behind Glennis, hoping that her ears could catch what her eyes missed. She wasn't as afraid as she would've been if she could've seen Twinblade, and in the end this worked in her favor. Piqued by her curiousity, Twinblade tilted his head in a slight nod, a gesture that meant that she should come forward. Elliot knelt down by Theresa and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "Just walk forward. Don't be afraid, there's nothing to stop you." Glennis looked warily at her brother's friend, knowing that the newly blinded usually didn't have such perception as when to stop walking, or when to start. However, Theresa stepped forward, her head held high. It was only when a flash of memory stabbed her brain that she faltered, and crumpled to the ground. The Bandit King frowned.

"Theresa!" Glennis pushed Elliot aside and ran forward, clutching the girl's shoulders.

"I saw him," choked Theresa, "I saw my brother. . . it was right before the attack. I wonder if he survived. . ." Glennis squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip before calmly placing her hand on Theresa's head.

"What're you doing, Glennis?" Cliff inquired as Twinblade shifted himself again to get a better look. The placid look on Theresa's face fascinated him.

'She must be a strong girl,' he thought, 'To be so calm after such a tragedy.'

"I'm sorry, Twinblade," Glennis' sharp voice snapped him out of his musings, "She needs her rest, I'm afraid the excitement has worn her out. She has, after all, had a very tiring week." Tiring? Tiring? Theresa's jaw stiffened. Memories were becoming hard for her to recall, no matter how hard she tried. It was almost like there was a weight on her brain that was slowly seeping out the memories. The dull thud ebbed away as Glennis lifted her hand off of Theresa's head and stroked her cheek instead.

"Come on, love," she smiled wearily, "Let's have you rest up before we bother Twinblade again."

"She'll stay with you, Glennis," muttered the Bandit King, "She looks strong enough to handle menial duties. She needs to earn her keep while she stays here, I don't enjoy keeping strays."

"I know, Twinblade," said Glennis as she stood up and took Theresa's hand. As they turned to walk away, Cliff eyed his sister venemously. He had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why Theresa was suddenly feeling so tired, and he didn't like it at all.

---------------------------------------------------

"Father, you know as well as I do that he's only doing this for the dowry," a petite woman stood over her father as he leered at the fireplace.

"I know that, daughter, don't you think I know it!" he snapped, "But this is the only way! You know what happens to those who refuse him. Do you really want your older brothers to die for your own selfishness? Besides, many girls would cut off their own hands for this opportunity." The father rested his head in his hands and slowly wept, "I don't want your mother's death to be in vain."

Yes, Kaze's mother had died. She was bitten by a Balverine when she was pregnant. She resisted the change until she had given birth to the babe, which explained Kaze's eerie golden eyes. . . they were Balverine eyes. Mentioning her mother always made Kaze cringe. It wasn't because she felt guilty, no, it was the opposite. She resented her mother for being bitten, for cursing her to be the odd child who felt sick to her stomach everytime there was a full moon. She hated that she didn't feel guilty, but she couldn't change it.

"Well," said the brunette, "At least I'll be out of your way now." A bitter smile curled at her coral lips, "You won't have to worry about me anymore. Who knows, maybe this will be better for me. . ." Kaze's father looked up at his youngest child with a tear-streaked face, not knowing whether to stare at her with disgust, hate, or awe. He reached out a trembling hand to touch her, to see if she was real, but he was interrupted by a cold knock at the door. She looked at her fate staring at her in the face with eerie golden eyes eternally behind a strange mask. Her bitter smile turned into an ironic one as she cast her father one last look. She knew that he would forever regret not being able to hold her one last time. Even if he did hate her, even if he did sell her out, even if. . .

Kaze woke up when she felt the cruel sun fall on her face. She shielded her eyes as she sat up and looked at her beloved curtains. They were torn from the window, pitifully mangled in a heap on the floor. The woman crawled towards them and clutched them to her chest like they were the last mementos left by her family.

And she cried.


End file.
